


Don't Ever Let Me Go

by Gabichan_96



Series: Ryuji and Akira: The Longest Confession [2]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Anxiety, Comfort, Crushes, Friendship/Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romantic Friendship, Shirtless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 18:52:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18104357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabichan_96/pseuds/Gabichan_96
Summary: Ryuji may never have been kissed before, but he sure had seen enough romance movies to go down the checklist.Arm around waist? Check.Hand in hair? Check.Staring at lips? Check.One or both parties missing clothes, optional for bonus points?He groaned and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes. Fucking check.





	Don't Ever Let Me Go

**Author's Note:**

> "Now I've tried to talk to you and make you understand  
> All you have to do is close your eyes  
> And just reach out your hands and touch me  
> Hold me close don't ever let me go  
> More than words is all I ever needed you to show  
> Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me  
> 'Cause I'd already know"
> 
> \- Extreme, “More than Words”

Ryuji shoved his phone back into his pocket and hiked his backpack higher on his shoulder. His phone must have died shortly after the rushed call to assure Akira that the “emergency” he mentioned does not mean Akira should be worried or do anything other than just wait at Leblanc, he just didn't have time to explain because he had to hurry up and pack or he wouldn't make the last train.

As he walked the rest of the way to Leblanc, watching his long shadow cast by the street lights revolve around him like a sundial on the sidewalk, he wondered if Akira really had been free tonight. He knew Akira made good use of all his free time, usually hanging out with someone whenever possible. Akira was really just the first person he'd thought to ask for help, and he was already trying to decide who to ask next when Akira replied that he was free. The last time they'd hung out, Akira told him all about the girl he was crushing on. Ryuji would feel really guilty if he got in the way of Akira seeing his crush. Despite not being the most punctual person, Ryuji hated to do anything _this_ short notice, but he really didn't have a choice today.

Before he was able to knock, the door of Leblanc flew open and Akira, glasses currently off and eyes wide, grabbed him by the upper arms and all but threw him inside, slamming the door and locking it immediately.

“Were you followed?” Akira asked in his low and somewhat urgent Metaverse voice. He quickly looked up and down the dark street through the glass door then backed away from it, gripping a bar stool with white knuckles Ryuji could see even though the only light in the room came from the staircase. Akira stood hunched with his knees bent, looking like a cat ready to pounce.

“What? No, I just-”

His words died in his throat when Akira suddenly rushed over to him and put his cold hands firmly on either side of Ryuji's face, looking into his eyes one by one almost frantically. Akira then pushed his blond spikes back from his forehead and seemed to search the perimeter of his face all the way into his hairline. Upon finding nothing, he stepped back, leaving his arms outstretched as if Ryuji might lose his balance and need to be caught any second.

“What happened?” Akira’s wild eyes were searching Ryuji from head to toe. “What's wrong?”

“Dude, _relax_.” Ryuji set his bag down on the bar and gripped Akira's forearms, leaning down to catch Akira's eye as he was trying to inspect Ryuji's legs. “I told you not to worry, didn't I? You look like you're tryin’ to give yourself a heart attack.”

Akira's face twisted as if he was about to burst into tears, and all Ryuji could think to do was to wrap his arms around the slightly taller boy and squeeze him the way his mom used to hug him when he was woken up by nightmares. Akira exhaled a shuddering breath and pressed his face against Ryuji's neck. It was such a sad gesture it made his heart ache. Ryuji had never seen his best friend like this. It never really occurred to him that Akira _could_ cry, it seemed so out of place it was almost unnatural. Suddenly, it made sense.

_He was checking to see if I got drugged or hit or something. Dammit._

“Akira, dude, c'mon” he murmured into Akira's hair, rubbing his palm in circles on his back. “I’m totally fine. Everything's okay. I'm sorry. Shit, I feel so stupid.”

“No, you told me not to worry,” Akira mumbled against Ryuji's shoulder. The warmth of his breath and the vibration as he spoke sent a wave of goosebumps across Ryuji's whole body. “I just… Shido is so dangerous, I started to think…” His arms tightened around Ryuji as he took another shaky breath.

“I shoulda realized you'd be freaking out, I'm so sorry. It's really not serious at all.” He felt like absolute crap for upsetting Akira this much over such a little thing, but he couldn't deny that he was really loving this hug and didn't want it to end. He brought the hand rubbing Akira's back to a stop, instead drawing his thumb back and forth over Akira's skin through the thin sleep shirt he was wearing. It took all Ryuji’s willpower to focus on comforting his friend and _not_ on the electricity buzzing in every inch of skin where their bodies pressed together. With his arms up near Akira's shoulders, he could feel the firmness of Akira's toned arms where they wrapped tight around his torso. It's not like he'd never admired Akira's lithe figure before. He was so showy in the Metaverse, it would be impossible not to notice the elegant way his long limbs move. Thanks to the bathhouse, the gym, and the times they've been to the beach, Ryuji more or less knew the lines of Akira's body by heart, but to actually _feel_ them was completely new. It would also be a lie to say Ryuji had never spent a night tossing and turning, blankets thrown off because even with the icy cold air blowing through his open window he was _way_ too hot to sleep, unable to think of anything other than Akira's deep gray eyes and smooth pale skin.

Akira shifted suddenly and Ryuji's heart almost crashed through the floorboards. He was probably just trying to stop his bangs from poking his eyes, but he had basically just nuzzled Ryuji's neck. That small motion combined with the scent of shampoo, coffee, and a hint of curry emanating from Akira's hair was absolutely intoxicating. Ryuji had _never_ been hugged like this in his life. If only Akira wasn't sad right now, this would be so perfect. The height difference was a bit awkward, but the main source of awkwardness was that this felt decidedly different from just a friendly hug.

Since his track days, Ryuji knew what it meant to admire another guy's physique out of respect for the dedication it took. During practice he'd often catch sight of biceps or abs and think about what it would take to get his own muscles to stand out that way. But with Akira, it had always been different. He was beautiful, anyone could see that. The first time Ryuji laid eyes on Akira he'd been left speechless for a solid couple seconds. From the way his impossibly dark mop of hair made his skin seem to glow, to the way the stupid Shujin blazer fit his slim figure so perfectly it made him look like he'd just strut out of a damn fashion magazine, Ryuji's eyes ricocheted all over him like a comet in a pinball machine. But it had nothing to do with wanting to look like Akira (in fact, Ryuji was quite proud of the brightly colored reject aesthetic he'd developed). Somehow, he immediately felt like he wanted to keep looking at Akira forever. He wanted to see him smile, and laugh. He wanted to know what face he made when he was really concentrating on something, or when he took a bite of something really tasty. His skin looked so smooth, it must be so soft- Ryuji was fortunately able to dismiss that thought before it could properly take shape. A first meeting was _not_ the time and place to wonder how it would feel to trace someone's jawline with your fingers.

The next day, however, he had a harder time keeping his thoughts in check. Alone together on the roof as the golden afternoon sun washed over Akira's perfect features, Ryuji told himself he couldn't be blamed for staring. It was downright unfair. The image of Akira smiling at him with those big gray eyes holding his gaze burned into his memory like a photograph. He hurried down the stairs that day, wanting to stop and get a hold of himself but knowing he would _die_ of embarrassment if his new friend caught sight of the stop-sign red all over his face.

Now, months into what Ryuji figured had to be one of the most awesome friendships in all of actual history, the warmth in his chest grew with every passing day. He should expect it by now, but he was always so amazed by how thoughtful, brave, organized, and amazing Akira was to everyone around him. He had no idea how Akira was still able to hang out with him whenever he asked. Akira’s grades were stellar, and he was working like three part-time jobs. All Ryuji did was go to class (mostly because Makoto would chew him out if he skipped), go to the gym, and read manga. It wasn’t like he had much of anything to keep track of, yet he still didn’t register that a text reading _Can I come over?? It's an EMERGENCY_ would probably make Akira assume the worst, even if he did call afterward to say not to worry. In his arms, Akira seemed to be breathing normally again. He was so warm, and with a little time to settle in, Ryuji thought they fit together pretty well. Sure, they didn't make an ideal cake-topper couple, but if hugging him felt _this_ good, it couldn't look that dumb, right? Akira wasn’t hugging Ryuji as tightly anymore, now just leaning against him peacefully with his head nestled against Ryuji’s neck and arms around Ryuji’s waist.

“You doin’ okay now?” Ryuji asked barely louder than a whisper. He felt Akira stiffen as if he was startled before he took a step back, nodding and tugging his sleeve over the heel of his palm to run it over his face. Akira cleared his throat and laughed weakly.

“So, uh, what was the emergency then?”

Ryuji rubbed the back of his neck and scowled in embarrassment. “God, it sounds so stupid now but I, uh- I need you to bleach my hair for me. See, tomorrow’s my mom’s birthday, so we’re gonna go out to dinner and she’s gonna take a _ton_ of pictures of us to post, and my aunts and uncles and cousins and all her coworkers and everybody’s gonna see them. And people already give me so much shit about my hair. I don’t want people thinkin’ badly of my mom for me bein’ the way I am, or at least I wanna do my best to look like I have my shit together, y’know? And _these_ roots-” he jabbed a finger toward his hair, “do not say I have my shit together. I usually have Ann do it, but she’s got a late photoshoot tonight, and I’ve asked Yusuke before but he said ‘hair isn’t his medium’. Which by the way, doesn’t his hair look, like, purpley-blue to you? Apparently it just grows out of his head like that! He said it’s prolly some kinda vitamin deficiency or somethin’, can you believe it? And I can’t do my own hair right now cause my arm is still fucked up from the palace. It was such a struggle to wash my hair this morning. Anyway, that’s why I asked you, and I really didn’t have time to tell you all that on the phone or I wouldn’t’ve made the last train,” Ryuji finished, slightly out of breath. “Or… I suppose I could’ve just said ‘hey, can you bleach my hair’, but I didn’t… think of that. I'm really sorry, dude.”

He expected Akira to be mad at him, or at least annoyed, but Akira wore his same warm familiar smile that made Ryuji's heart feel swollen. Akira simply shook his head with a chuckle and shuffled toward the stairs.

“Can I get you anything to drink? Are you hungry?” Akira asked, his usual graceful confidence returning.

“Nah, thanks though. It'll have to sit for a while so we could grab snacks then,” Ryuji replied as he grabbed his backpack and started up the stairs.

Akira's heart was still pounding as he followed Ryuji to the attic. _See, he's fine,_ Akira thought, scolding himself for overreacting as much as he did. As soon as he had gotten off the phone with Ryuji, he started pacing the restaurant, stopping every few seconds to press his palms and forehead against the freezing glass door searching up and down the dark street. When his texts and calls went unanswered, he had put on his shoes and coat then changed his mind with his hand on the doorknob three separate times. He played the phone call over and over in his memory, terrified by the thought that someone was there forcing Ryuji to make that call. Despite the fear burning in his stomach, he tried to convince himself that if Ryuji had really been in danger, he would've thought to slip some kind of code word into a gunpoint phone call. “Pancakes” would have been a good choice for a previously undiscussed code word, Akira thought. If he had heard a single word that felt even a little out of place, he would have left immediately for Ryuji's apartment, but Ryuji sounded the same as always, just rushed, and he did say he was packing which explained all the rustling in the background.

 _But why was he packing?_ Akira thought. _Did something happen and now he has to go into hiding? Where could he even go? Who would be there to keep him safe? Sure, he can take care of himself, but someone has to be there with him!_ Akira made up his mind instantly that if Ryuji was leaving Tokyo alone, he would drop everything to go with him. Theoretically they could still find a way to meet the other Phantom Thieves in the Metaverse. If not, Makoto would make a great captain, and with a little more work Yusuke could be the new muscle of the team. Akira squeezed his eyes shut, imagining what life in hiding might be like. He could shave his head and stop wearing the glasses, that should work. And if Ryuji stopped bleaching his hair and wore it longer, no one would recognize him either. He already knew he could work multiple part-time jobs if he had to. He could almost smile at the thought of eating homemade curry and watching late night TV in a cheap apartment in some small town, tangled up with Ryuji on the couch. As long as they were together, as long as Akira could be the one to keep him safe, it would all be worth it. Ryuji being miles and miles away was an eventuality Akira hated to think about. He at least wanted the comfort of knowing that Ryuji was still here in Tokyo, going on with his life as usual. He couldn't picture Ryuji anywhere else, not without him there too.

When he opened his eyes, he was startled by a figure standing outside the door, but as soon as he recognized blond spikes through the frosted glass, he was so relieved his knees almost buckled under him. He got Ryuji inside as fast as possible and searched him from head to toe but couldn't see anything wrong, which just made him start spiraling even more out of control. Was Ryuji even really here? What if his mind was unraveling, showing him what he wanted to see most? Or, what if it was some kind of cruel payback for outsmarting Akechi by using the Metaverse? What if he was being distracted by his own cognition while the real Ryuji was out there in desperate need of his help?

All his thoughts went completely silent as soon as Ryuji pulled him into a tight hug. Ryuji's arms felt so strong and solid and real, there was no way Akira's mind could've been making it up. He took a deep breath, grounded by the agressively sporty scent of Ryuji's cologne, and instinctively leaned closer until the side of his face met the warmth of Ryuji's neck. Akira had always been particularly fond of that sloping expanse of smooth, lightly tanned skin between Ryuji's bright face and strong shoulders, like a sunbeam falling through the clouds to the hills below. As he turned and talked and laughed, so many beautiful things happened between his chin and collarbone. Akira could never have guessed exactly how smooth that skin was, and not for lack of trying. Dizzy from the adrenaline wearing off, he pressed his temple against the space under Ryuji's ear and let the moment wash over him for as long as he could.

When they reached the attic, Akira sat on the couch and watched Ryuji digging around in his bag before cursing under his breath and dumping the bag's contents out on the table by the stairs.

“Alright,” he said, looking at Akira with a small smile, “you ready to start? We could just chill for a while if you wanna wait.”

“No, I'm alright.” Akira sat forward on the couch, eyeing the heap of hair supplies. “So how does this work?”

Ryuji rummaged through the pile of stuff, laying the items out in order as he spoke. “Okay, you mix together one scoop of this and two scoops of that. Stir it for a minute and if it looks anywhere between ketchup and frosting, you're good. Then you just paint it on the roots, part the hair and keep going till you're done. Super simple.”

“What if I drop some? Won't your shirt get ruined?”

Ryuji looked down at his signature ZOMG shirt. ”Ah shit, you're right. I don't wanna chance it. You have a shirt I can borrow?”

“Uh, I mean I can give you one of my workout shirts. I don't mind if those get stained.”

“Nah, I don't wanna ruin your gym clothes. It's fine.” Without warning, Ryuji pulled his shirt off over his head in one smooth motion.

Akira couldn't stop his mouth from dropping open for just a second. He was _not_ ready to see Ryuji shirtless in his room. As the blond tossed his shirt on Akira's bed and lifted the chair at the foot of the bed to bring it over, Akira's eyes trailed from Ryuji's shoulders down to the neon green band of his boxers where it showed above his black jeans, mesmerized by the way the attic's lights enhanced the muscular contours of his back. Blushing, Akira turned around to poke at the supplies as Ryuji positioned the chair, back facing the table, and sat down with the small speaker in his hand.

“Can I use your phone to play some music? Mine's dead.”

“I figured,” Akira said with a subtle smile, holding out his phone over Ryuji's shoulder. “Next time you turn it on, you'll have quite a few missed calls and texts. And please don't listen to my voicemails, I'd be so embarrassed, you should really just delete them.”

Ryuji let out a sad sigh. “I really am sor-”

“It's okay! I promise.” Akira didn't like the guilty feeling Ryuji's apologies gave him. “You're safe, that's all that matters.”

Ryuji sat in silence, unable to think of anything to say. More accurately, he was unable to say any of the things he was thinking. _I can't believe you were that worried about me, I'm not worth all that. I hate that I made you cry. Please, Akira, don't ever cry because of me. I'd rather break my leg again, it honestly hurt less than seeing you so upset. But when you are upset about anything, please, I want you tell me. I want to be there for you, more than anything in this whole messed up world. Even if I can only help a little bit, helping you keep on being so amazing is the most important thing I'll ever do._

He was startled out of his thoughts by Akira's slender fingers gently combing through his hair, pushing it around as if he was trying to come up with a plan of attack.

“You can start at the front,” Ryuji told him, coughing to cover up the tightness in his throat.

“Yeah, I don't know how you put up with that chemical smell.” Ryuji smiled to himself, picturing the way Akira's elegant nose was wrinkled playfully, which Ryuji could tell he was doing just by the small change in his voice.

Akira took to the task with ease and worked methodically, moving through sections of hair quickly considering he had never done this before. They sat mostly in comfortable silence, commenting every so often on the songs that played. Finally, Akira placed the brush back in the bowl after his final stroke and rested the pads of his fingers on Ryuji's shoulders, stepping this way and that to make sure he hadn't missed anywhere. One errant glob of bleach had run down Ryuji's neck behind his ear while he was working on the other side, and without thinking Akira curled his finger and slowly ran it up the streak of blue paste swiping it back into Ryuji's hairline, blushing when the blond squirmed and giggled.

Ryuji was tough and brazen, qualities that served him well as a Phantom Thief and an outcast at Shujin, but Akira had been surprised to learn that he was physically very affectionate and trusting. Beyond standing or walking beside him with an arm thrown over his shoulders, Ryuji loved to sit as close to him as possible, squeezed up against his side or fully leaning on him even for long periods of time like gaming or watching a movie. Although he genuinely wanted Ryuji to have as much friendship in his life as possible, Akira was very flattered by the knowledge that Ryuji didn't hang out with anyone else in an intimate enough setting for that kind of closeness. Before he met Ryuji, he hadn’t realized how happy those small frequent touches could make him. In fact, Akira enjoyed it so much that he had started acting on the whims of small gestures as he thought of them, like quickly squeezing Ryuji's shoulders or laying a hand on his back for no reason other than being rewarded with a warm smile. It was undeniable that what they had, whatever else it may be, was a very special friendship.

They passed the next half hour sharing a bag of slightly stale potato chips and laughing at the cheesy acting in a random action movie on TV. With Leblanc having no shower and a small, simple sink in the bathroom, the only option to wash Ryuji's hair was the kitchen sink, so they hurried downstairs once the jingling timer on Akira's phone went off.

“Don't drown me, okay?” Ryuji said with a smile. He stood in front of the sink and gripped the edge of the basin before bending forward far enough that his head was practically upside down in the sink.

Akira turned the sink on, grateful that the hose seemed long enough to make the job easy. As he let the slowly warming water run over his fingers, he stared in awe at Ryuji's back yet again, letting the trail of his vertebrae lead his eyes back to that green waistband. Ryuji was so vulnerable like this, but he seemed to trust him so completely. Before he had time to hesitate, Akira lifted his free hand and let his fingertips trail ever so lightly over the bumps of Ryuji's spine down to the small of his back.

“Hey!” Ryuji laughed, trying to squirm away from Akira's touch. “Don't you dare tickle me right now, I could slip and break my neck, and then you'd really be in trouble with Boss.”

“You're right,” Akira replied with a soft smile as he ran the warm water through Ryuji's hair. “You okay? Let me know if I'm drowning you.”

“Don't worry, I'm good.” Ryuji's voice echoed around the metal basin. Akira lathered up his hands and began massaging the shampoo into Ryuji's hair, trying hard to be gentle while still getting the job done properly. “This actually feels really nice. Guess you're a natural at this just like everything else.”

Akira smiled silently, letting the compliment hang in the air. It was a comfortable silence but it felt… different, almost as if the air was charged. It reminded Akira of the feeling he had on the last day of school before summer break when he was younger. It could be excitement, but not _for_ anything, more like being excited to do nothing at all. He felt so content, it was tingling in his chest.

He shut the water off and draped a towel over Ryuji's head, turning to assess how thoroughly he would have to clean the sink to keep Sojiro from complaining. Dizzy from the blood rushing down from his head, Ryuji tipped backwards and would have toppled over if not for the arms suddenly around his waist.

With the hum of the refrigerator drowning out all noise outside, it felt oddly quiet other than the soft sound of the towel hitting the floor. Akira watched as Ryuji chuckled and widened his eyes for a moment to underscore what a close call it was. But even though Ryuji was standing unassisted almost immediately, Akira didn't let go.

Ryuji's skin was cold to the touch, no doubt because he was shirtless for almost an hour in November, plus there was no heater in the kitchen. Even his hands were cold where they held onto Akira's arms. His smile faded slowly, replaced by a questioning look that went unnoticed because Akira's eyes were busy following the trail of fuzzy dark hair on Ryuji's stomach past his belly button to where it disappeared under that green waistband he'd paid so much attention to that night.

Akira registered that he was making it awkward, that he should let go and step back and say something to break the tension, but he was transfixed. He met Ryuji's eyes briefly but gave nothing away as he was distracted by a water droplet falling onto Ryuji's nose. Akira brought one hand to Ryuji's forehead and slowly slicked back his dripping blond hair, leaving his hand behind Ryuji's head as he leaned closer, drawn in by the warmth of Ryuji's breath. His lips were slightly parted, and they twitched as if he wanted to speak but just couldn't get the words out. They were pink and smooth and _right there_ , but all at once Akira came to his senses and pulled away, busying himself with picking up the towel and wiping the sink clean.

“You should be more careful. M-maybe you're dehydrated. You can head back upstairs, I'll bring you a glass of water.” He was careful to stay turned away from Ryuji to hide how absolutely red his face was. His pulse was pounding in his ears so loud he almost didn't hear Ryuji respond.

“Y-yeah. Okay.” Ryuji stared at Akira for another few seconds until his legs carried him toward the stairs seemingly on their own. _What the hell was that??_ His mind was racing as he climbed the stairs. It really looked like Akira had been thinking about _kissing_ him, but there's no way that could be right. For fucks sake, they just talked about him having a crush on a girl! Maybe he was biased here, but seriously, what other way could you interpret all that? Ryuji may never have been kissed before, but he sure had seen enough romance movies to go down the checklist. Arm around waist? Check. Hand in hair? Check. Staring at lips? Check. One or both parties missing clothes, optional for bonus points? He groaned and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes. Fucking check. He dropped onto Akira's bed and pulled his shirt back on, shaking his hair out and pushing it around until he felt like it would look decent.

Akira spilled the glass of water three separate times as he carried it out of the kitchen, his hands were shaking so badly. Did he have to say anything about what just happened, or should he just leave it at that? He was pretty sure that if he tried to say anything, he'd just end up making it more awkward. Okay, maybe he was in love with Ryuji. Maybe, in addition to admiring his bravery and strength and perseverance and spirit, _maybe_ over the course of their friendship he had also come to find everything about Ryuji _very_ attractive. And maybe, having him shirtless in his arms (which started off a hundred percent innocently, for the record) was just too much. So sue him. (On second thought, better not go through that again.)

When he got to the top of the stairs, Ryuji was on the bed wearing his shirt again and fiddling with his hair. Their eyes met and Ryuji smiled at him, looking a little melancholy but otherwise okay. He sat down on the bed a respectful distance away from the other boy and held out the water glass.

Ryuji took the glass and held it nervously, knocking his nails against it a couple times before speaking. “So how's it look? I'm too lazy to go back downstairs to the bathroom mirror. I trust you wouldn't lie to me.”

“I mean, it's all blond now. I think it looks great,” Akira said as he pulled his legs up against his chest. “I'm glad I could help.”

“Yeah, I really appreciate it. Thank you.” Ryuji's words slurred into a yawn. “Must be pretty late by now, huh? I better head out soon so I can get a little sleep at least.”

“You could just sleep here tonight and we'll go to school together in the morning. I know the couch isn't that comfortable so you could take the bed and I'll take the couch, I really don't mind.” Akira stared at his toes as he spoke. He wouldn't blame Ryuji for wanting to leave after how weird he was earlier, first freaking out as soon as he showed up, then getting way too close to him without explaining anything. He had to fight the urge to hide his face in shame at the thought.

Ryuji looked thoughtful, then nodded with a smile. “Yeah, that’d be good. An’ I’m not gonna take your bed, don’t worry.”

Half an hour later, Akira lay in his bed watching the headlights of passing cars dance across the ceiling. He glanced over at Ryuji, who was snoring peacefully with his feet dangling over the armrest of the old couch. They would be very tired during classes tomorrow, and Akira didn’t want to think about the look Sojiro would give him when he came downstairs with Ryuji in the morning, but it was all worth it to help out a friend.

Akira rolled onto his side and pulled the covers tighter around him. _A friend._ He knew he had to talk to Ryuji about his feelings, and soon, because it’s one thing to have your best friend tell you they have a crush on you, and it’s another thing entirely to find out by them smushing their face onto yours before you can decide whether you want it to happen or not. It wouldn’t be right. He would tell Ryuji the truth for sure, Akira silently promised himself as he smiled at the sound of another snore. He just needed a little more time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! This one was tough to write, I had so many ideas I wanted to include. It was a challenge for me to tie them together but I'm pretty pleased with how this turned out. Is at-home hair dyeing romantic? It certainly has been for this cosmetology student <3 And I promise, the confession is coming, I'm just having way too much fun with this to let it end so soon!  
> Comments and constructive criticisms are very welcome!


End file.
